The Boy Who Appeared from the Rain

by Kevin David Jensen

Police chatter reporting the progress of the search sounded through Officer Garrenton's radio amidst the noise of the driving rain. Kara leaned against a support post just beyond the Fish Market and stared impatiently into the street. She rubbed both hands over her eyes; after so many hours without sleep, they burned. Craig stood beside her, running his hands through his hair every minute or two. He was so tired—she could see it in his drawn face. How he was holding up under this duress she did not know. He was certainly keeping calm better than she was, keeping his mind clearer. He had always been like that—cool under pressure that she found overwhelming. It was one of many traits she appreciated about him.

  He saw Kara watching him and took her hand. The simple gesture didn't ease her anxiety, but it was still a comfort.

  The teams of church members and friends searching for Zach had been at work for only fifteen minutes, but already Kara was beginning to fret. She had hoped they would locate him right away; as the minutes stretched on, she grew more apprehensive, fearing that they had missed the boy yet again. "Come on, Zach," she whispered. "Just come out—look out here and see us." If he saw them, he would come to them, she was certain. He had not tried to run away yesterday, he had been kidnapped; he would want to come home. Recalling her last words to him yesterday, she hoped she wasn't trying too hard to convince herself that he would.

  "Anybody found him yet?" Derek, with Douglas beside him, went hurrying past to check another building, slowing just long enough to get Craig's response.

  "Nothing yet." Craig sounded worn. How much longer before he and she would have to give up and rest against their wishes? Sooner or later, everyone had to eat and sleep; Officer Garrenton had begun to say as much a few minutes ago.

  Derek sped off into the Corner Market with Douglas at his heels. Several concerned citizens had stopped to inquire about the situation, and a couple of Seattle Police officers stood close by to field any information curious shoppers and tourists might provide. As yet, though, they had received no leads.

  Kara didn't pray. No, that wasn't true—she had been praying all day and hadn't stopped. She just didn't pray with words anymore. Her heart cried out with a plea beyond the capacity of language. She wanted to take her son home. Take our son home, she corrected herself with another glance at Craig. He was as good a dad as she had ever imagined he would be, his distraction this past month notwithstanding. She wanted him to get to keep being a dad. He would make a wonderful granddad someday, gentle with the grandchildren, teaching them how to plant trees and play baseball, do all sorts of—

  "Mr. and Mrs. Fleming!" Officer Garrenton's voice jarred Kara from her weary thoughts. "We've got to go!"

  Adrenaline surged through Kara's body in an instant, making her tremble even as she jumped up and ran with Craig into the rain. They met Officer Garrenton at her patrol car.

  Agent Nyler was there, too, with Eddie at his side. "Go, Jackie!" he yelled. "I'll send our teams to search that area!"

  Officer Garrenton swung herself into the driver's seat, barely waiting for Craig and Kara to settle in behind her before she flipped on her lights and siren and sped the three of them away.

  "They found him?" Craig asked, his voice filled with hope. Three more vehicles—police and FBI—followed behind them.

  "One of the teams from the church reported seeing him down here near Pine and First," she responded. "They split up. Some went to get a phone, another tried to catch up with him."

  "Catch up with him?" Kara repeated.

  "He was running away."

  In seconds they reached a small gathering of church members and befuddled onlookers. Craig and Kara leapt out of the car with Officer Garrenton and stepped onto the sidewalk.

  "Who saw the boy?" Officer Garrenton asked the little crowd.

  Two small hands went up in the front of the group. "Isabella!" Kara gasped. "Sofia!" She quickly knelt in front of them, taking their hands in hers. "Did you really see Zach?"

  Both of them nodded.

  "Where?"

  "Up there," Isabella pointed up Pine Street with her other hand. "He was running to the corner. Our mom told us to come back and call the police."

  "Are you sure it was Zach?"

  "He was wearing his green and blue jacket," Isabella answered.

  Kara squeezed their hands. "Oh, you did so good!"

  "Mamá!" Sofia called out. She ran past Kara and Officer Garrenton and grabbed Rita's hand as the woman rushed up to the group.

  "Did you find him?" Craig asked, his eyes imploring her to say she had. But she had returned alone.

  "It is Zachy," she nodded, "but he get on a bus before I catch up. He does not see me, but I see the bus drive away and he is sitting in the front."

  "Which bus?" Officer Garrenton prompted her.

  She responded in Spanish and immediately shook her head, returning to English. "592, on Second Avenue, two or three minute ago! I chase, but I am too slow."

  Officer Garrenton wasted no time in radioing her dispatcher. "Stop all busses on Route 592! The boy was seen on 592 near Pine and Second. Have someone tell me where that bus is!"

  Kara lunged at Rita and embraced her tightly. "Gracias, Rita!" Craig hugged the two girls. Then they slipped hastily back into the patrol car, and Officer Garrenton sped them away.

  Four minutes later, with directions from the dispatcher, they had cut through the thick downtown traffic and located the bus, which had stopped at the curb. Officer Garrenton parked behind another patrol car, and they hurried out. An officer was just stepping off the bus behind the driver, a husky man with an overly-large mustache.

  "Look, I'm on a schedule!" the driver bellowed. "And don't tell me I was speeding in all this traffic, either, because I'll contest that!"

  "Hush!" Officer Garrenton snapped as she approached. She turned to the other officer. "He's not there?"

  "No," he confirmed. "I checked the entire bus. But one of the passengers gave me this photograph. She said a boy matching his description left it on the seat."

  He handed Officer Garrenton a photograph much like the others they had found. She eyed it quickly and passed it to Kara.

  "Oh, Zach," Kara breathed. Age three or four, standing in the bathroom with no shirt on, trying to comb his own hair—that look of concentration was Zach's, all right. So were those blue eyes he had crafted from his dad's brown ones…

  Officer Garrenton returned her gaze to the bus driver. "You had this boy on your bus, brown hair, blue eyes. He boarded on Second Avenue. Where is he now?"

  "How should I know? He got right back off," the driver answered irritably.

  Kara wanted to slap the man. What right did he have to be irritable?

  He continued. "He was on the wrong bus. I told him to catch his bus on Third. He got off at Third and Pike—paid the full fare, went two blocks!"

  "Where was he trying to go?" Craig asked.

  "I don't know, someplace south of here—Beacon Hill," the driver managed.

  Kara grabbed Craig's arm with both hands. "He's trying to get home!" Emotions warm and icy rushed through her whole body—warm hope because Zach was heading for home, freezing cold fear because he was still in danger. He would be in danger until she and Craig had him safely with them again. The contrasting emotions made her shiver—or maybe the shiver came from the cold rain. It hadn't let up for a couple of hours now.

  Officer Garrenton was already on the radio, requesting the dispatcher to notify the Metro Bus system and have them check for Zach, especially on busses en route from downtown to Beacon Hill. Then she notified Agent Nyler to send his search teams to the block of Third Avenue between Pike and Pine Streets.

  Craig started calculating. What are the odds, Kara wondered, guessing his thoughts, that our son who can get lost walking the neighborhood caught the right bus home? When we rode the bus with him before, was he paying attention?

  "Okay, let's get moving," Officer Garrenton told
her and Craig. "I know the bus routes to Beacon Hill. We'll check those until we hear back from Metro." Before she returned to her car, though, she glared once more at the bus driver. "Can we ticket this guy for being a jerk?" she asked the other officer.

  "I'm sure I can think of something," he answered with a grimace.

  Officer Garrenton grunted. "Well, if not, you might keep an eye out for any lane violations later. Or failure to signal…"

  The driver defied her with a scowl.

  She beckoned Craig and Kara back to her vehicle. They took off right away and turned south. "Seven, fifty, sixty, thirty-six," she recited as she squeezed her car, siren blaring, through the crowded streets. "But which one? Fifty and sixty go across the west side, thirty-six down the middle, seven on the east…"

  The radio crackled again, the dispatcher calling for Officer Garrenton. "Metro Transit reports a passenger matching the boy's description on route thirty-six," it said. "Bus is proceeding east on South Jackson Street. The driver indicates that the boy appears to be alone."

  Craig glanced at Kara hopefully.

  Officer Garrenton replied to the dispatcher. "Instruct the driver to take it slow, but not to stop until we arrive. We don't want to alert the kidnappers if they're on the bus. Or the boy, either—he may run if he thinks he's in danger."

  She accelerated, taking them down the road much more quickly than Kara was comfortable with, but more slowly than she desired. A mere two minutes later—an eternity to Kara—they turned west onto South Jackson Street. "There it is!" Craig exclaimed, pointing to the bus a block ahead of them. It crept to a stop beside the curb as they approached.

  Officer Garrenton turned off her siren, but kept her lights flashing as she brought her vehicle to a halt behind the bus. "Hold on!" she commanded, barely catching Kara and Craig before they leapt from the car. "I go first…just in case."

  Craig nodded, and they emerged from the car. He took Kara's hand, holding it against his chest as they followed Officer Garrenton and watched her step quickly to the bus's front door. "Whatever happens," he told Kara, eyes fixed on the bus, "I love you."

  Kara blinked. He's worried about me? Well, she realized, she had worried about him a little today, too. She squeezed his hand in reply.

  Officer Garrenton peeked into the bus as if expecting trouble, her right hand on the weapon at her hip. Kara prayed she wouldn't need it. Her prayer was answered; relaxing, the officer stepped onto the bus and, positioning herself beside the driver, looked around. Kara held her breath; she could feel her own tension reciprocated in Craig's hand.

  After an endless moment, the officer turned back to them with a wide grin. She motioned them onto the bus. Kara, trembling, led the way, Craig right behind her. Officer Garrenton made room for them to enter the aisle.

  Kara looked to the seats. The bus was nearly full. The passengers watched with a blend of curiosity and concern at the officer's entry—every passenger except one…

  Kara's hands flew to cover her mouth. "Oh!" she breathed, lifting up a wordless, grateful prayer. There he was! He was mid-way to the back of the bus, on the driver's side, his disheveled head slumped against the window. He was sound asleep.

  "Thank God!" Craig exclaimed as he spotted Zach.

  Kara rushed up the aisle to the boy, but when she reached him, she slowed herself and settled gently into the seat beside him. "He must be exhausted," she whispered to Craig. "He never sleeps in the car."

  She touched Zach's shoulder and shook him lightly. "Wake up, kiddo," she whispered to him. He did not respond; his breathing remained deep and steady. She ran a hand through his wet hair. "Zechariah." He didn't open his eyes, but he did shift to the side and snuggle against her. Kara glanced up at Craig in astonishment.

  The boy was soaked—he had been out in that rain. Why did that please her? The water in his hair glistened just as it had the night when he had appeared on the doorstep. A police officer had been there then, too, at the door—the same officer as stood near the door of the bus tonight. As she had brought Zach to them that first night, she had now brought them to him. What a strange sort of birthing that had been, to see him standing there dripping that first time…

  Placing an arm around his shoulders, Kara shook him more vigorously. "Hey, Fish," she spoke into his ear.

  This time he roused and peeked up at her from beneath heavy eyelids. "Mom?" he managed, confused. She grinned down at him. He looked at her, sleepy and perplexed. Then, comprehension dawning with a gasp, he suddenly threw his arms around her and hugged her. Stunned, she hesitated a moment before embracing him in return. Her tears drained onto Zach's hair, mixing with the rain, and she made no attempt to stop them.

  An instant later, though, Zach startled and pulled himself back abruptly, looking up at her in shock. He seemed so surprised at having hugged her that she couldn't help but laugh. He stared at her for a long moment, then noticed Craig standing above her. "Dad?" he mouthed, barely giving voice to the word.

  "Hey, pal," Craig replied. "We've been looking everywhere for you."

  In a flash, Zach stood and leaned across Kara to hug his dad. When he finally pulled away, he looked at them both with moist, puzzled eyes. "How did you find me?"

  "You left us a good trail," Craig said. He pulled one of the photographs from the pocket of his jacket. "That was smart, pal."

  "I just thought that if anybody was looking for me—"

  "We've been looking since after school yesterday," Kara told him, wiping her eyes. She took his shoulders in her hands and looked him over. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" He looked all right from what she could see. But she wrinkled her nose. "Ugh, you smell!"

  "I had to hide in a garbage can, Mom! And they tied me up in a shed!" His voice shook—he was exhausted, of course, and still very frightened. "And later they tied me up in a basement. But I got away—I figured out how, Dad!"

  Craig bit his lip and nodded supportively.

  "Grandfather helped me escape the first time," he continued in a rush. "He's alive, Mom! But I couldn't rescue him the second time. They were guarding him. They saw me and tried to catch me again. That's when I had to hide in the garbage can—"

  "Shh," Kara interrupted him, placing a finger on his lips. Officer Garrenton was motioning to them. "We want to hear everything. But first, let's get you off this bus." She stood up. Craig led the way down the aisle to Officer Garrenton, Kara following with Zach safely between them.

  In the aisle, he stopped and turned to her again. "Mom, I'm sorry," he said with genuine remorse in his eyes, not that falsely penitent look he had gotten from his dad. "I—"

  "Zechariah," she cut him off, "it's okay. We both said foolish things yesterday. I didn't mean it, and I know you—"

  "No, Mom," he protested. "Not that."

  She tipped her head to the side, confused. "Then…what?"

  He gulped. "Mom, I only bought French fries for my dinner. I know they're not healthy, but—"

  "You're sorry," Kara interrupted him again, "because you bought French fries?"

  He gazed up at her guiltily, as if expecting a reprimand.

  She grabbed him and hugged him again. How could she do anything else? "Zechariah Timothy Fleming, tonight you can have all the French fries you want!" Releasing him, she prodded him down the aisle.

  He craned his neck back to gape at her with a look of pure astonishment. "Really, Mom?"